


A Proper Hug

by Medie



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-21
Updated: 2010-02-21
Packaged: 2017-10-07 11:14:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/64601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medie/pseuds/Medie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of 'Grave' Giles realizes Anya deserves a better hug than the shared one with Buffy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Proper Hug

"Anya..."

Giles' voice, so weak from exhaustion, was faint and barely audible but she would hear him if he were mute and she were deaf. "Yes?"

"Lying on a floor, near death, gives one time to think and something occurred to me."

A lot of things probably occurred to him on that floor. But, a tingly feeling raced through her at the very thought, she suspected there was one that had the potential to be Anya-specific.

Anya-specific was good. Very, very good.

"What's that?" And, thankfully, it came out with just the right sound of curiosity and lack of the raging anticipation she felt. 'Good, Anya, good,' she coached herself, 'keep it together and he just might not see how shivery you get when he looks at you.'

She almost laughed. 'Yeah, right.'

Feeling daring, she risked one more comment. "What occurred to you? Something about the shop? I know its kinda trashed and everything right now but I'll fix it up, good as new. Though, the insurance might be a problem...think I can pass 'Act of Willow' off as 'Act of Goddess' or something like..."

"It occurred to me," Giles interjected patiently. "that I never gave you a proper hug."

The words reached her through her anxiety-induced ramble and she looked up at him blankly, stopping mid-word. "Huh?"

He smiled, reaching out to brush plaster from her cheek. "I never gave you a proper hug. One arm just won't do."

"Really?!" Traitor to her own post-Xander inner conflict, Anya perked up.

Her smile banished the aches from his body. He knew, in the emotion of seeing Buffy - alive and well - again, he'd very nearly forgotten everything. His reason for being there...

And Anya. For that moment, he'd forgotten Anya.

But he wasn't forgetting now.

"Really." He affirmed. "I can't truly say how good it is to see you again, Anya..."

"Well, that's why hugs were invented." She informed him pertly. "They say what words can't."

"Indeed." Giles said simply, opening his arms and waiting for her to step into them.

He didn't wait long.

Anya all but flew into them. She would have just thrown herself at him but he'd been thrown around by Willow for a good chunk of the night, nearly died, and nearly seen the world end....he was probably kind of sore. She felt his arms close around her and a soft exclamation, a sigh really, escaped her and she rested her cheek against the material of his coat.

She could hear the steady beat of his heart thudding beneath her ear, smell his aftershave, feel the warmth of his body radiating out through her. She smiled and snuggled closer, wrapping her arms about him carefully, not wanting to hurt him. She liked hugging Giles. She really, really, really liked hugging Giles.

More importantly, she liked Giles hugging her. It was heavenly, It felt good and right and just perfect.

Hugging him, Anya had a few things occur to her. Things like she wanted a lot more than a hug from him, she didn't want to let him go, and she certainly didn't want to him to leave again. She didn't want him to go. And she didn't want him to go just because it was weird running the shop without him, or because it felt wrong not having him there to talk to, or because when she opened the shop every morning she expected to see him there and was disappointed when he wasn't. No, it was for more personal, achy, womanly reasons that she was just beginning to understand. Reasons that made her go all shivery-quivery inside.

She liked those reasons.

She liked hugging Giles.

No, she *loved* hugging Giles.

And Giles loved hugging Anya. He didn't want to stop. He didn't want to let go. His arms protested but he ignored it. A little pain was worth it to have her this close. He didn't know how he would do it. He didn't know how he would be able to leave her again. It was cliche but absence truly did make the heart grow fonder. Or, in this case, absence provided clarity.

Being away from Anya had provided insights he'd needed. Allowed him to see how he truly felt and understand it. And, he hoped, it had done the same for her.

But he'd worry about that later, right now, he was hugging Anya. He turned his head, inhaling the scent of her shampoo, feeling the soft, silk of her hair brushing against his cheek, her curves pressing against him.

This, he realized, was what a hug truly was. It was more than just arms wrapping about bodies and bringing them together. It was comfort, arousal, experience, and an influx of sensation all at once and Giles loved everything about it.

This, indeed, was a proper hug.


End file.
